Sweet Legacy

Wise choice, the woman says.

“Oh for the love of Gucci,” I shout. “Who are you and what are you doing in my brain?”

“Um, Greer?” Grace asks.

“What?” I snap.

My sisters exchange a look. Gretchen asks, “Who were you talking to?”

Oh, just the voices in my head—yeah, that confession would go over real well. They’re still freaked out that I might somehow rekindle my connection to Apollo. I don’t need to make them worry, not when we are at such a critical point in the prophecy.

“Then”—Grace looks at each of us—“what next?”

“Well, if we’ve interpreted the riddle correctly,” I reply, “we stand within the triangle of trees, join our blood, and the door opens.”

“Just like that?” Grace asks, skeptical.

“No,” Gretchen says, “not just like that. First, we have to battle the Olympic faction that wants to prevent us from opening the door. They will try to kill us before we have a chance to pull out the dagger.”

“They’ll have numbers on you,” Nick says. “They’ve been planning this for millennia.”

“They might not find us,” Grace suggests. “We might be able to open the door without them ever finding out.”

“Only if our luck changes,” Gretchen says.

Thane shakes his head. “They’ll find you. With Apollo on their side, it’s only a matter of time.”

Grace looks at me. “At least he isn’t magically connected to you anymore.”

Yeah, thankfully. Thankfully I died and severed that—

“Oh!” I say, remembering the message the Fates—another important trio—gave me on my visit to Hades. “There is something else we need to do before we open the door.”

“What’s that?” Gretchen asks.

“‘Fight not alone,’” I say, repeating the words of advice.

“What?” Gretchen frowns.

Grace asks, “What does that mean?”

“It’s the advice from the Fates,” I say. “I think it means we need to call for help.”

“From who?” Gretchen asks.

“The gorgons are on their way,” Grace offers.

“We’ll need more than the gorgons,” I reply. “We’ll need as much help as we can get.”

“From who?” Gretchen repeats.

I resist the urge to correct Gretchen’s grammar. “From everyone. From the monster realm, from our friends.” I look each of my sisters in the eye. “Right now, I have to believe that the more people we have on our side, the better.”

Grace nods like she agrees. “Before and after we open the door.”

Gretchen scowls, thinking.

“Both factions will have armies working against us,” Thane says.

“The more numbers we have, the better,” Nick adds.

“You’re right,” Gretchen finally says. “We need to have an army of our own.”

We agree to meet back here in an hour, with our makeshift troops gathered to our sides. We’re going to do everything we can to balance the odds.

School is in session.

When I push through the front doors of Immaculate Heart, I’m stunned to realize I don’t even know what day it is. I have no idea how many school days have passed since I last attended classes. Two? Ten? Twenty- seven? How many truancies have I accrued?

My parents are going to hear about it when they get home. Mother is adamant about a perfect attendance record—of course, Mother is adamant about many things. That used to matter to me. I used to exhaust myself trying to please her, even though I never could. Now I don’t have time to worry about something as trivial as a few unexplained absences.

The first place I check is the maintenance office on the first floor, at the end of the first hall near the front door. The door is locked, and my knocks go unanswered.

He could be anywhere in the school.

After I discovered who—what—I am and started seeing monsters again, I suddenly saw through the friendly school janitor’s human glamour to the furry spider inside. He knew I was a descendant of Medusa, a member of the Key Generation, and he promised to help when the time came.

Well, the time has come. And where is Harold?

As I walk past the front office, the secretary calls out my name.

“Greer,” she shouts into the hallway. “Miss Morgenthal?”

I suck in a deep breath as I stop. I don’t have time for this discussion, but the school secretary is a battle-ax. I can spare a few seconds, if only long enough to use my hypno powers to make her forget she saw me. If I don’t at least listen to her reprimand, things will only be worse later. Of course, if I die in the upcoming battle—or, rather, die again—I won’t be around to care. Still, this will make things easier in the long run.

I turn back to face the secretary.

“Miss Tregary,” I say, pasting a huge smile on my face. “How are you this lovely morning?”

“Fine, dear, fine,” she says, waddling out from behind her desk.

I never noticed before, but she does walk rather awkwardly. Perhaps that’s why she wears long Gypsy skirts. I always thought it was to hide really hideous legs.

“I apologize for my recent absences,” I say, trying to deflect the confrontation by confessing my wrongdoing before she can accuse me. “I’ve had some pressing outside responsibilities that I could not ignore.”

I’ve mastered nothing if not the ability to be vaguely evasive.

“I’m not worried about that, dear,” she says, waddling closer. “I’m sure ye have yer reasons.”

She reaches into her bosom and pulls out a piece of paper.

“Harold asked me to pass this along if I saw you.”

I take the note. “Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Now ye’d best get going.”

She turns to walk back to her desk. I’m about to leave the room when I catch a glimpse of something beneath her skirt. It looks like . . . well, the tip of a lizard’s tail.

“Miss Tregary?”

She looks up as she settles back into her desk. “Yes, dear?”

For a moment, I consider asking her about it—asking her to help—but I quickly dismiss the idea. The older woman can barely walk; how could she ever help us fight?

Besides, she’s worked here for ages—longer even than Harold. She couldn’t be a monster in hiding.

I must be seeing things. I’m already hearing things—the madness is just progressing. The pressure is finally getting to me.

“Never mind,” I say, and I turn to leave.

Out in the hall, I unfold the note from Harold, written in surprisingly elegant handwriting—I would have imagined it hard for a spider monster to grip a pen.

Miss Greer,

    I had to return home unexpectedly. If the time comes while I’m gone, please ask Miss Tregary for assistance. She can get you the help I promised.

                                Sincerely,

                                Harold

I fold the note back up and press my palms against my stomach. All right, maybe I hadn’t been seeing things. I guess I’ll have to confront Miss Tregary about her lizard tail after all. Pushing away from the wall, I turn and walk back into the office.

“Oh, Miss Tregary,” I say, with a more genuine smile on my face, “there is something I need to ask you.”